A Los Angeles-based nonprofit opened an early childhood center specifically for children whose families are seeking asylum in the United States. This center is one of the only places available where migrant children can play and learn for free.

It’s not an expensive or sophisticated device and is simply driven by foot power and the mind.

My time machine allows the modern traveler to extend the powerful wings of imagination and soar to long-past times and events.

And for me, it seems to work best in remote places, away from the ever-changing urban world.

Advertisement

Years ago, I discovered this wonderful device when hiking in one of Anza-Borrego Desert State Park’s most remote areas. Half buried in the dirt beneath a scrub oak was an olla, the utilitarian earthen pots made by the native inhabitants of the area.

Delicately lifting it from the ground, I reached inside, and my fingers fell into the fingerprint impressions left by the pot maker. It was an instant connection between past and present.

The wings of my time machine spread wide and I was carried back a thousand years or so to a time when the residents here followed the seasons, moving from mountains to desert in search of food or more hospitable weather.

With the olla’s wide mouth, I could envision it filled with acorns, berries or seeds as the Indians roamed to gather their food or were perhaps seasonally relocating from summer to winter villages.

Advertisement

I was hiking with the park superintendent, so we carefully recorded the location and carried the pot out to be added to the park’s cultural collection.

What my time machine could not tell me was why this olla was here? Who made it, who left it behind or why?

I traveled in time again a few years ago when hiking some arid canyons in Imperial County.

At a junction where three deep, narrow washes meet, I found several rock circles measuring about six feet in diameter.

The rocks were deeply set into the sand, indicating they had been there a long time. Wind and water had nearly buried the rocks in shifting sediments.

Archaeologist Malcom J. Rogers located more than 500 rock circles in the Colorado Desert that he called sleeping circles. Since then, archaeologists differ on the reason for these circles, with some saying the circles and other rock patterns may have been temporary camping locations, ceremonial sites or even natural formations created by wind, vegetation growth or animal digging.

But my time machine painted a more vivid picture.

Since the circles were at a place where travelers from different directions would meet, I could see native people building a temporary camp while waiting for others to arrive.

Advertisement

Without clocks or dependable modes of travel, there were likely times when those ancient travelers had to wait for their companions to arrive.

Those arriving would build primitive shelters while waiting for others. There are historical accounts of these simple shelters.

Stones were used to keep bowed branches in place that were then covered with lighter brush. The structure was much like the modern-day pop-up tent, only built entirely from plants in the area. This crude hut at least provided some shelter from the harsh desert sun.

I could easily sit here in the desert quiet and imagine a small band of ancient desert travelers waiting for their companions to arrive.

Yes, my time machine is imaginary, but triggered by a physical connection to history that only comes from being where history occurred.

San Diego County is rich in historical treasures that can fuel your time machine.

Petrographs and petroglyphs are crude paintings or etchings on rock walls left by ancient people, along with initials carved into sandstone cliffs dating back more than 100 years.

In dusty sections of Carrizo Creek there are remnants of the Butterfield Overland Stage route left by travelers seeking a new life in California in the mid-1800s. If I close my eyes and activate the time machine, I can clearly hear the chains of the singletree rattling as the creaky stage coach passes by.

Advertisement

Desert canyons hold rocks dimpled with the grinding holes left by Native Americans while grinding acorns or seeds into a usable meal.

There are few places left where you can do this, but I’ve cast my mind to the wind while perched on a wilderness mountain, knowing I was perhaps sharing the same, unchanged, view of the first people to leave footprints here. Thank goodness for large, wilderness parks.

The scholars and scientists can provide the dry, historically accurate details of these places and things, but your time machine can bring life to this connection with the past.

So, lace up your boots, fire up your time machine and head into the wild places to connect with history. It’s a spectacular journey.

It’s taken more than two decades of intermittent highway construction, but motorists now can drive from Interstate 5 in Oceanside all the way to Interstate 15 in Fallbrook along a four-lane split highway with a lifesaving barrier in the middle.

Encinitas residents and business owners are invited to attend a public meeting on Sept. 17, 6 p.m. to learn about two important projects taking place along the North El Camino Real Corridor in the coming months.

The La Jolla and Carmel Valley units of Rady Children’s Hospital Auxiliary announced recently the second annual beWELL Fitness Fair, which is scheduled for Sunday, Sept. 29, from 8 a.m. to 11 a.m. at the La Jolla High School Stadium.